Mom never allowed us to have a dog, a cat or any animal that has a furry fur. Number 1, because my sister, Luciana, has an allergic rhinitis. Number 2, Dad doesn't like animals. And Number 3, Mom says they're dirty. They would just poop and urinate around the house. The only pet we've ever had are fishes.
Ever since I was a child, I've really longed to have a furry friend of mine. Whenever I would see someone with a dog, it would make me smile and picture myself having a dog.
When I was in college, I studied at Manila. I stayed in the condominium my family bought 2 years ago. It was really lonely being alone for five years. It would either be Luciana or Mom who would call me through Skype every weekends. Sometimes, I would just sometimes cry because of homesick and longed of going back home to Davao City.
Those lonely times urged me to get myself my very own dog. He was a labrador retriever, color white and very friendly. I decided name him Frankie. I bought Frankie from a friend who offered him at a very reasonable cost. Of course, my family doesn't know about him.
Frankie was my only companion in my pad. He made me very happy and would make me forget my homesickness. Although, my budget for his food was just low and as time would pass by, he would eventually grow bigger which would require him more food. Also, Mom was write about the pooping and urinating part. One thing also is that when I have my classes, I would leave him to Manang Bebs who is very fond of dogs and cats. When Mom or Luciana would call, I would temporarily let him borrow to a Manang Bebs. They didn't knew about Frankie for three years.
They knew about Frankie when they unexpectedly visit me in my unit. Mom just shrieked and Luciana immediately covered her nose with a handkerchief. I tried to explained the situation but I just ended up being reprimanded by Mom. In her anger, she unexpectedly kicked Frankie and walked away saying they would just check-in in a hotel and wouldn't bother me while they're in Manila.
Even when I married after a few years, I still have Frankie, who is now an 8 year old. My husband, Michael, who is an asmathic never liked him. Still, Mom doesn't like Frankie either.
When I first had my first beautiful child, Viana, she was born with an asthma that she inherited from her Father. Now, Frankie must stay outside to prevent Viana from having her attacks. Whenever I was gone, Michael, Mom or Viana would sometimes kick or hit Frankie without my knowing. I just knew about this from our help, Inday. I wish I could be always be with Frankie, but with my hectic schedule, he was always forgotten. Sometimes, Frankie wouldn't be served with his food anymore, his place won't be maintained and he wouldn't have his daily check-ups with his veterinarian anymore. The way I did when I was the one whoo took care of him.
With the way the people treat him, he still was friendly and never bit anyone. When I would approach me, his face would be in a delight and his tail would wag in happiness. Once, I set up a tent in our yard and accompanied him to sleep. Somehow, it would remind him the good time we had together before.
Three years after I married, Frankie died because of cancer. According to the vet, he was already suffering this for two years. It was just ignored which lead to his death. I cried because I blamed myself. I didn't had the time for him and he wasn't well taken care of the way he used to have. I gave him a proper burial in our own backyard and I put up a photo of Frankie in our room (even if Michael disagree, still I insisted).
Because of Frankie, I learned a valuable lesson in life. Even if the people around were not caring or giving importance to you, you still have to love and respect them.
Frankie has been a huge part in my life. That lesson taught me to be strong and not mind the people who have been criticizing and hating me. I still have to love and respect them.
After Frankie, I never had a dog. Frankie was my first and last dog.
I love you, Frankie! You will always be my lab!
-----This story is not real. This is just a work of the author's imagination. Pure fiction.-------
